The Wounds Beneath the Bandage
by DC111
Summary: Sometimes, to know yourself, all your beliefs and values have to be tested. When time can no longer heal the pain someone has put you through, it's best to just say goodbye. Note: typed more about a real life situation than Sonic and Amy, so possibly OOC.


**Well… this is a little something I typed late at night several months ago. For those of you who are familiar with my work, this has absolutely nothing to do with my series, but I think you might get something out of it either way.**

**I typed this when I was in a particularly emotional mood, and it really helped me vent some anger. I didn't really plan on posting it at first. But if you're sitting there reading this, you obviously know now that I decided to share it with you all anyway. I'm curious to see what people think of something a little more emotional and mature coming from me. Speaking of mature, the characters are several years older, as you'll find out. Sonic is nineteen, Amy is sixteen, Tails is twelve. Oh yeah, this is told from Sonic's point of view. Even though I'm a girl and it would have made more sense to type something like this with a female character, I find it easier to type Sonic for some reason, and I just plain like it better. So there. :P**

**Allow me to warn you, though, that Sonic may be a little out of character. Just a little, though. **

**Enjoy, and if you want, check out my series, too. It's got a lot more action than this.**

xxx

The Wounds Beneath the Bandage

_The trees are rushing past me, disappearing into the green abyss of a forest behind me. My feet impacting the firm ground sound like beats of a drum – fast and loud, but controlled._

_I run faster. The thuds my feet make each time they hit the ground blend together so that I can no longer tell which one belongs to which foot._

_Yes, I'm that fast._

_The world is gradually changing from distinctively colored trees and plants to a jade blur as I look on ahead toward the horizon. I feel so relieved, so satisfied, so... so free._

She_ has indirectly tricked me into thinking that I can no longer be free because I've made a commitment – to her – but even I forget how fast I can run. I can outrun anyone and anything, as well as all my problems._

As these wonderful and relaxing thoughts floated through my mind, I became less and less aware of what I was doing, my own thoughts swallowing me whole. My feet thought for themselves as they carried me across the flat, endless ground.

Of course, though, running is only a temporary fix.

Just as I felt an adrenaline-driven grin tug at my lips, my left foot welcomed the opportunity to hook onto a large root. As my legs were pulled out from beneath me, my momentum continued forward until something hard and rough stopped me. I could only assume it was a tree.

With my incredible speed seemed to come high pain tolerance for the falls that came with _tripping _at said speed. That's… not to say it didn't hurt a hell of a lot. It just would have hurt a lot worse otherwise.

I rolled over on my back as I let out a frustrated groan of pain. As if automatically, my hand found my head and massaged the part that had been unfortunate enough to come into contact with the tree. The stinging ache there made my inevitably injured foot seem like nothing, but I opened one eye anyway to look at the damage.

My shoe wasn't there anymore; probably stuck a couple hundred feet away under that root. There were no less than four cuts where the bark had dug into my ankle, right above where the shoe had been. All of them were right next to each other, though not parallel, and it looked like each one had been created by a different piece of bark. There was a large, jagged slash; a deep, curved one that was oozing blood; and two smaller, less serious looking ones. Also, my foot pointed in a direction that was just a bit… off. I had probably twisted it a little.

I took a few deep breaths, then placed my hands next to me and lifted myself off the ground. I didn't want to get up, but it wasn't like anyone knew where to come and find me. I was probably at least twenty miles away from the Mystic Ruins right now, and that was the _closest _place any of my friends resided.

With that in mind, I decided it would be a smart idea to make my way to Tails' workshop. Not only was it nearer than _her_ place – as if I want to go there right now – but my little bro was smarter than you'd imagine for a twelve-year-old. I had a feeling he'd know what to do about this. I retrieved my shoe and started making my way there.

The run back from the forest was certainly longer than the run there. I had to slow down by about a hundred miles per hour, courtesy of my twisted ankle. And there was now a nice trail of red following me. With every other step, I winced; my body was telling me to slow down but my mind was telling me to deal with it and keep going. The faster I got to the workshop, the sooner I could get this taken care of.

The five minutes it took seemed more like half an hour. When I finally arrived at Tails' house, I leaned against the wall, a little lightheaded from the loss of blood, and knocked on the door. It opened a few seconds later. The smile on the fox's face lasted only a split-second as he realized that the blue hedgehog he was accustomed to seeing wasn't quite as blue as he should be.

"Sonic, you're hurt!" The kit cried, blue eyes sparkling with concern as they focused on the red gash that I knew decorated my forehead.

"Am I?" I retorted, but I knew he could see the hint of a smirk on my face.

"Get in here – let me help," He abruptly swung the door open, realizing that he had just been standing there looking me over for the last few seconds.

A few minutes later, I was sitting on the couch sideways, my injured foot across my friend's lap as he examined it. "How'd you manage to tear it up like that?" The fox asked, tilting his head up to look at me.

"I was just taking a run through the forest, and I tripped over this big root. Seems weird, 'cause I've run through that area before. In fact, I go there a lot _because _there aren't many obstacles, you know?"

"Guess you were just running through the wrong place at the wrong time, huh?"

"Guess so."

"So how've you been? Aside from the cuts, I mean," he added. The kid's getting better – he caught me before I could make a remark on that one. "I heard you and Amy weren't getting along too well a couple weeks ago."

I actually felt my expression go sour, but I managed to put some of the façade back on before Tails saw how bad it really was. "You heard right, bro," I replied.

Amy and I have been dating for about half a year now. Cream's mom asked me one day why I always ran away from her, and said that Amy cared about me a lot and that I should give her a chance. She said that, for being nineteen, I was acting sort of immature by always running away like Amy had cooties. After letting her advice sink in for a bit, I thought that maybe she was right… and I found that I actually liked Amy quite a lot. At least, I thought I did at first.

"How are things now?" Tails inquired.

I sighed. "Eh, they're okay, except for the argument we had the other day. If you put that aside, things have been going somewhat better for the past few weeks."

"So you're all patched up, then?"

I hesitated. "I guess so… but the cuts underneath the patches haven't healed yet," I told him. I looked at my bleeding foot and added, "Analogy unintentional."

"Never thought you'd hold hands with a girl before I did," the fox admitted.

"Jealous?" I asked jokingly.

Tails made a face. "No! I mean, girls are fine for friends, but I'd never wanna put my mouth right on theirs. That's…"

"Me neither!" I interrupted. "I haven't kissed her like _that. _You thought I did, didn't you?" I smiled a bit, then let it die away. "It's a good thing you don't want to date yet."

"What's wrong, anyway?" Tails reached for the rubbing alcohol on the table and let some spill onto a washcloth, then pressed it to my ankle. I resisted the instinctive urge to squirm away, waiting for my body to adapt to the stinging sensation before answering Tails' question.

"Er… she just seems so needy lately. To the point where she's almost _selfish,_ you know? Even if I'm busy or I want to take a run, she _always _has to come with me or make me promise I'll be back by a certain time. She always needs reassurance on everything. She accuses me of lying to her when I really haven't. I know it should seem like these are little things, but it adds up after a while, you know?"

Tails thought, then smiled sympathetically. "She's probably just a little insecure. I mean, you just recently started liking her, and she probably doesn't want to lose that."

"But just in the last six months, I've done so much for her that that shouldn't be an excuse anymore. It seems like she should be able to trust me a _little _by now. Isn't that part of what's supposed to make a relationship click?"

"You're asking the wrong person. But yeah, that makes sense," Tails agreed with me. "After all, she knows how often you like to go out and about and have time to yourself."

"Exactly. And the other day, she pestered me for no less than an hour trying to get me to take her with me on my run. For the last two weeks before that, I'd taken her with me, but she couldn't let me have _one _run to myself?" I heard my voice adopt a slightly irritated tone as I spoke, and it wasn't only because Tails had just applied more alcohol to my already throbbing foot.

"Sorry," the fox mumbled, lifting the cloth away from my injury.

"I'm okay," I told him, not wanting him to feel bad.

"You're just supposed to clean deep cuts like these really good. I don't want to hurt you, though."

"It's nothing," I insisted confidently, my mood relaxing to where it had been before our discussion about Amy. "Go ahead and finish." The two larger wounds were deep, and I knew they would be prone to infection if left untreated. And infection could potentially mean no running for a few days. Not worth it.

Again, Tails pressed the cloth to my foot. The accumulated blood soaked through. I felt the antiseptic liquid penetrate, but I didn't complain. _How can something that's supposed to help an injury cause so much pain initially? _I supposed I didn't really care; I was just curious.

My mind drifted back to the metaphor I had used earlier, about the unhealed cuts underneath the bandage. I suddenly realized how close to the mark that metaphor came. Things _had _been bandaged recently – between Amy and I, I mean – but that didn't mean everything was perfect again. That didn't mean the wounds were healed yet.

The argument we had before I went running the other day – was that like the alcohol? Painful at first, but would eventually help the healing process progress quicker? I _had _let Amy know how I felt about the way she was acting. Would that help fix things? Or would the argument be more like an infection, only getting worse until it was put to an end?

I decided to stop thinking about it. It was annoying, and I was probably boring Tails to death.

"Almost done, here," Tails said, using a part of the rag not already stained with red to wipe away the remaining blood.

He set the cloth back on the table and reached for the bandages. We were both silent as he wrapped them around my ankle.

"Your head going to be okay?" the fox asked, looking up at me. "It looks like it's still bleeding a little bit." He leaned toward the table again, and I was about to protest that this one probably didn't need treatment, but decided against it. It's not like it would make things any worse, so why not? I watched as he put more rubbing alcohol on the washcloth. Then he used another clean corner to disinfect the scrape. I closed my eyes.

"Not a good idea to wipe out at supersonic speed," Tails commented. I chuckled a little. "You're lucky you didn't break anything, particularly your head. But hey, you've always had a thick skull. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Funny," I said as he finished up.

"All set now?"

"Yeah, no worries," I assured, giving him a thumbs-up. "But as much as I hate to say it, I'd better go check up on Amy. Just 'cause I'm ticked doesn't mean I can just act like she doesn't exist, you know?"

Tails nodded. "Drop in again when you have time. I want to show you the improvements I made on the Tornado. It's a _lot_ faster now, and I repainted it. It was chipping."

"You bet I will. Today, as a matter of fact. Just give me an hour or so, okay?" I grinned, helping myself off his sofa. "Thanks, doc," I quipped playfully, and then bolted out the door with only a slight limp.

xxx

Ten or so minutes later, I found myself racing into the colorful and lively city of Station Square – the only city that I can come close to considering home. It's also the home of my _girlfriend_, which is my main reason for being here. I told her I'd be back by noon, and since I'm such an honest person, I'm keeping my word.

For some reason that I still can't figure out to this day, I felt compelled to glance over my shoulder. I hadn't heard anything or seen anything from my peripheral vision, yet as my head whirred around, there was the subject of my thoughts peeking out from behind a building.

Shock fueling my actions more than anything, I came to a quick halt. Why the _hell _was she _spying _on me? How long had she been there waiting? I hadn't lied to her before – every time I said I would be back at a certain time, I was – yet she had been standing there _watching _for me like a mom watched a little kid! She was... she was even more insecure than I thought! So badly I wanted to holler, "I think I'm old enough not to require a supervisor!" but I didn't.

Instead, I acted like I was eyeing a shop across the street from the pink hedgehog and wandered toward it in a curious fashion. I peered through the windows, trying to look occupied, and sure enough, I saw her nervous, distraught reflection looking at me from across the street. _Don't even try to convince yourself that she's doing this because she cares about you,_ I commanded to my inner self. _The only reason she's doing this is because she wants to keep you close to her so she won't LOSE you. She doesn't trust you – she's doing this because she's AFRAID._

"It's all about you, isn't it?" I muttered inaudibly. "It's all about your happiness, your certainty that I'm not going to run away from you like I always did before. It's not about me. You don't give a damn about my need to be free."

Then I did something utterly cruel: I whirred around and looked straight at her. I knew even as I did this that the glare in my eyes made her cower inside. I knew that I had humiliated her beyond belief by revealing to her that she had been caught. Two seconds ago, I had no intentions of doing such a thing, and maybe I would regret it later, but at that precise moment in time, the resentment and the pain and the impatience – among other emotions – were all at the exact right level to drive me to carry out such a bitter act.

This move alone took an enormous weight off my shoulders. I suddenly felt as if every frustration I'd wanted to voice to her had been communicated through simple eye contact. There was no possible way that she _didn't understand every single thing_ going on in my head – I had let her see right through my eyes and into the depths of my mind; I had let her read my emotions and my thoughts toward her.

As the relief flooded through me, I found myself more patient. I stood where I was, with my gaze still fixed on her, waiting for her response to what she had inevitably seen. For a few long seconds, her mouth twitched and her eyes roamed my body, as if she was going to speak. But she didn't. Only then did I realize how easily she stepped down the invisible ladder I had set up for her and put her at the top of when we first started dating; my mood changed drastically again and anger flooded throughout me.

_Even more than a ladder – I put you on a pedestal and surrounded you with flowers and it wasn't enough for you. For a while, I truly loved you; I thought you were kind and amazing once I got to know you. And look how far you've managed to climb down from that in the past few weeks, just because you let your old fears resurface._

She was surely two steps from the bottom of that ladder at this point. The fear in her eyes – directed toward someone she was supposed to _love _and _respect_, nonetheless – was about to bring her down another one in my mind. Everything about her – from the look on her face to the way she was shifting her weight back and forth – was afraid of me, afraid of losing me after trying so hard to get me all these years.

_What's the point of pursuing a relationship like that?_

_Shouldn't she trust me by now, after I've been so faithful to her for three months?_

_Haven't I proven myself?_

I couldn't stop the ocean of questions I was dying to know the answers to. I didn't understand. I didn't understand her, I didn't understand what more she wanted me to do. I didn't understand why I should keep this 'relationship' going if she was not going to make an effort in it at all, if it was only going to be one-sided.

_All that matters to her is her happiness, not how all this makes me feel._

_If she wants me so badly, why doesn't she respect what I want?_

_Why doesn't she let me be who I am?_

_Doesn't she know that things would work out better that way?_

_…If we both respected each other's wishes, and trusted each other?_

I shook my head back and forth as if that was going shake off the confusion, the desperation… but once again, I found myself staring into her frightened eyes.

And I found myself… running.

Before I even realized it, I was running away from her. I suppose my feet had concluded that I had given her more than enough time to say something to me; anything. But she hadn't.

And now I was doing the very thing that she had been dreading all along. I was doing the thing she hoped she'd never have to see me do again.

I was fifteen again, running from the crazy, twelve-year-old girl suffering from a terrible case of puppy love. Running from her dreams, her fantasies.

For half a year, those young fantasies had come true. She couldn't be happy with that, though. She couldn't trust that it would stay that way. Funny how that lack of trust – that insecurity – is what caused her dreams to fail in the end.

Nothing good lasts forever.

_At least… that's what the saying says. But personally, right now, I believe otherwise as I speed back towards Tails' house, more than ready to take that ride in the Tornado with him and tell him the news._

I was free again. No more chains disguised as charming pink hedgehogs could hold me down. It was over.

And for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I felt like Sonic again. I felt like that carefree, bring-it-on personality that had always made me who I was.

You know, that first cut… one of the two little ones… I think it was selfishness. A small factor, because she hadn't been acting that way intentionally.

The second one was probably fear. She was still afraid of me, afraid of rejection, despite my efforts.

The third one – which was second to largest – was distrust. She didn't even _try _to trust me, not once. I gave her no reason not to trust me when we started dating. I had never been dishonest with her, even _before _we were dating.

The last one, which was the longest and most jagged… that was oppression. She had taken away my freedom, taken away everything I stood for. She had tried to make me promise I wouldn't go after Eggman anymore. 'It's too dangerous.' _I'm glad I didn't promise, because I can't do that. Helping others and fighting injustice is my life. It makes me who I am. And I can't give that up._

_Besides, fighting Eggman is just too fun._

The wounds didn't heal in time. I took off the bandages and revealed the slashes beneath: I stopped temporarily fixing things by running off the stress and indirectly told Amy everything. I gave those wounds a chance to breathe and heal: I gave Amy a chance to heal our relationship. Not one of those inflamed, red scratches went away.

But that's okay. They'll turn into scars, and scars don't hurt anymore, right? Scars are just… reminders of the pain that was endured. And even then, the fur will cover them so that I don't have to look back on them. Ever again.

xxx

**There ya go. Go ahead and review if you want, and tell me what you think of it. Thanks for reading. :)**


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